


i think i was meant to keep you warm

by voidoceans



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies)
Genre: Throat Kisses, candlelit ambience, pretty boys sorta kinda talking about feelings, that trailer killed me and rebirthed me as a newtmas stan, the good stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-15 23:13:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13041516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voidoceans/pseuds/voidoceans
Summary: "I'm here foryou," Newt says carefully.And he meant it.He would have not gone this far if it hadn't been for Thomas and the hope he had instilled in Newt; a hope for rescuing Minho, a hope for destroying WCKD, and a hope for a new beginning, a new life...together.Thomas' eyes, twinkling from the candle's flickering flame and watery from holding back tears, focus on Newt's face. It's the first time he's looked at him for days. Newt could practically feel his loss of breath as he took in the sight before him. It's a nice sight to look at, Thomas' face, even when he's bedraggled and about to cry, he's still very handsome.Newt is so entranced he doesn't even notice Thomas reaching over, until he feels icy, callous skin on his hand. He's in shock as Thomas laces their fingers together."I'm cold," Thomas whispers.





	i think i was meant to keep you warm

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fic!! Newt hopelessly in love with Thomas since he first laid eyes on him and Thomas reciprocating those feelings during that year break between TST and TDC is my new favorite headcanon and the trailer pretty much confirms newtmas so um, here's a very soft fic to tie us over until Jan 26th~

Thomas has not eaten for two days. 

Brenda was the first to notice, she had asked Newt if he had by chance see the other boy take a plate of food to his room when lunch was being served. Newt confessed he had not, that maybe Thomas came downstairs to serve himself when everyone was asleep, but that was just wishful thinking on his part and Brenda's apprehensive look confirmed his own doubts. 

"I'll go check up on him later today," He had told her. 

Later today came a lot sooner than expected, and now he's willing himself to climb the stairs to the second story of the warehouse, to Thomas' lonely little room he's been holed up in the past few days. Newt is not entirely sure why he's so nervous to speak to his friend, they had been renewed with vigor and determination just a couple of weeks ago, but since failing their first effort of tracking down Minho's whereabouts Thomas has suffered from a mental breakdown, and has cut everyone in the Right Arm off entirely. Newt knows it's half frustration, half sadness that they're no where closer to saving their friend - who had been taken by WCKD six months ago - but now's not the time to give up; they still have enough steam to devise a new plan.

Newt reaches Thomas' door and is just about to knock, but he feels his heart hammering wildly against his chest, and his stomach tying itself in knots. 

"What's wrong with you?" He whispers to himself. But he _knows_ , he knows deep down he is still harboring tender feelings that he had tried to smother long ago; feelings of warmth, admiration and lust for the boy behind the door. He shakes his head and straightens himself, if he's going to try and convince Thomas to buck up and get back to work, he needs to conceal his forbidden affections. 

After another moment of just standing there, Newt bypasses knocking and opens the door instead. He swings it wide open and sees Thomas sitting on his bed, his back to Newt, completely unfazed by the sudden intrusion. There is no light in the room besides a few candles lining the windowsill, Thomas is staring out at the night sky, or nothing in particular. 

"Tommy," Newt says sternly, wincing a little as he realizes how silly that name sounds with such a harsh tone. "Thomas, come on - come and eat something, you've been pouting long enough, you need your energy to come up with a new plan."

Thomas turns his head to the side slightly, so all Newt can see is his side profile. "I'm not hungry," he says flatly, then he turns his head back. 

Newt rolls his eyes at this. "Okay," He sighs, stepping into the room and sitting on the other side of the bed, so he's back to back with Thomas. "You can't be so hard on yourself, mate. Successes are to be met after many failures, we had ourself a failure...we might have many more, but I am positive we'll find him, we'll end all of this. But the longer you sit here and stare at nothing we're going to still be at the starting line. So think a little more then pick your ass up and get something to eat, alright?"

Thomas is quiet for a moment but he speaks, his raspy voice like a symphony to Newt's ears. "I'm worried that no matter how much we try, no matter how many hours we spend devising the perfect plan, how many people we end up losing, it's never going to be enough to save him or anyone else." 

"That's loser talk," Newt counters, but he understands Thomas' fears; he too has felt hopeless regarding this mission. "I'm not use to hearing you talk like that. You're suppose to be the one who keeps fighting, I'm Mr. Doom and Gloom, let's get it right." 

Thomas must not be amused because he remains silent and at this Newt sighs and twists himself around so he's sitting side by side with the other boy, their thighs nearly touching. Newt pulls himself together because being this close to Thomas sets his insides on fire, and his heart aches with pining. He's so close to touching, to having what he's secretly been wanting for since the moment he first laid eyes on the spirited boy who sprinted out of that box in the glade. 

Thomas breaks the silence with his soft, defeated voice, "I know you're here to get me to eat, you're here because the others are worried about me bu-"

"I'm here for _you_ ," Newt says carefully.

And he meant it.

He would have not gone this far if it hadn't been for Thomas and the hope he had instilled in Newt; a hope for rescuing Minho, a hope for destroying WCKD, and a hope for a new beginning, a new life...together. 

Thomas' eyes, twinkling from the candle's flickering flame and watery from holding back tears, focus on Newt's face. It's the first time he's looked at him for days. Newt could practically feel his loss of breath as he took in the sight before him. It's a nice sight to look at, Thomas' face, even when he's bedraggled and about to cry, he's still very handsome. 

Newt is so entranced he doesn't even notice Thomas reaching over, until he feels icy, callous skin on his hand. He's in shock as Thomas laces their fingers together. 

"I'm cold," Thomas whispers. 

Newt is not sure how to process any of this, Thomas' cold skin sending heat up his own arm, the statement that was just said - was it an invitation? An invitation to touch further? Newt is worried he's getting mixed signals, that he'll scare Thomas off. He's also very conflicted, why is he thinking about making love on the very bed they're sitting on? Why is he even _thinking_ about making love in the first place? 

Unfortunately, Newt's mouth moves a lot quicker than his brain. "I'm not," he says matter-of-factly. Almost immediately he finds himself cringing when he sees a look of slight confusion cross Thomas' face. 

_Shit._

Newt quickly looks down and is about to force out some half assed apology and run back downstairs when he feels that icy calloused skin on the left side of his face, and his head being turned back to the side. Thomas is leaning forward, a small smirk tugging on the corner of his lips, he closes the space between them and whispers, his mouth ghosting Newt's lips, "I wish you'd just cut the shit sometimes."

Newt is the one to press forward and invade Thomas' open mouth with his tongue, and he feels the kiss deepening almost instantly, his insides inflamed with victory - _Thomas leaned in first. Thomas wanted to kiss him. Thomas feels the same way._

They're sitting there, twisted at a strange angle, attached at the lips and sharing spit for an untraceable amount of time. Thomas' hand is bracing the back of Newt's head, and Newt's hands are touching any and every part of Thomas' body he can get to. He's running his hands along the sides of the boy's lean torso but he takes it a step further and sneaks his hands up and under the hem of Thomas' shirt, his fingers now brushing against soft, glorious belly skin. 

Thomas' breath suddenly hitches in Newt's mouth, and he shifts himself so he's falling backwards, his hand still on the back of Newt's head, taking him down with him. Newt, now on top of Thomas, finally breaks the kiss and attaches his lips to the open neck beneath him. He's still exploring Thomas' torso, teasing through the hair that leads from the navel to his crotch, and now he's enjoying the heat and taste of Thomas' throat. 

Thomas is moaning as quietly as he can, hissing slightly when Newt nips at his neck, his own hands are grasping Newt's back, nails biting skin through the fabric of his shirt. 

Newt detaches himself, breathing heavily, he stares in amazement at the blossoming hickey already on Thomas' throat. "Take it off," he whispers, referring to his shirt.

Thomas' eyes are dazed, his lids heavy and his dark lashes wet, he looks like he's about to pass out but he nods his head and slips Newt's shirt off. Newt leans back a little and begins to unbutton Thomas' jeans, he pauses, his finger playing with the button, "Do you want this?" 

He's asking in half guilt that they shouldn't be doing this when the others are restless over devising a plan, that they're selfish for not thinking of Minho; and he's half worried that maybe Thomas doesn't really want this...that he's just confused and sexually frustrated and Newt is unknowingly taking advantage of him when he's vulnerable. 

Thomas steadies his breath and gazes into Newt's eyes, he cocks his head to the side quizzically, like a puppy, and he lets out a breathy laugh. "Yeah, I want it. Do you?" 

"Uh, yeah...I wouldn't be on top of you if I didn't," Newt laughs. 

Thomas snorts, an unusual sound Newt hasn't heard for a long time, and pulls the blonde boy's head back down for a kiss. While their mouths are latched to each other and their tongues are intertwined, Newt undos the button of Thomas' jeans, pulling the zipper down slowly. He begins to pulls the pants down narrow, fit hips. Thomas lifts himself up a little, making it easier for Newt to shimmy the jeans down further, so they're bunched around Thomas' ankles. Thomas then kicks his shoes and jeans off completely so they land with a soft thud on the floor. 

"Shhh...." Newt breathes, slightly giggling. "We don't want to wake the others."

"No, imagine if they walked in on us," Thomas laughs, even though that situation would _not_ be funny whatsoever. "They'd be so confused, like, 'I thought he had a boner for Teresa!?!?'" He mimics a girl's voice, most likely Brenda's, when saying this. 

Newt forces out a laugh but inside he seethes at the mention of... _her_. He was happy to have not thought of her for weeks, but he knew that she was always in the back of Thomas' mind, that her inevitable betrayal had cut him deep to the core. 

"Never mind what they think and what _she's_ up to," Newt teases, tracing Thomas' cupid bow lips. "Never mind all of it, let's just get you warmed up."

Thomas grins at this and cranes his neck back up for another kiss. 

Newt has no idea what will happen after tonight, when the candles have been burnt out, the morning sun has risen, and the others wake up. He doesn't know how him and Thomas will act around each other after such intimacy, after the words whispered into each other's mouths, after the icy hot skin on skin contact and the slow, savored love making.

All he knows, in this moment, is that him and Thomas are finally warming a bed together.


End file.
